#2172 Why I like Richard Haines

May 2, 2012

Illustration: Richard Haines

I was first introduced to Richard Haines by Bruce Pask back in September during New York Fashion Week. It’d be safe to say that we hit it off immediately – our irreverent senses of humour and mischievous personalities seemed to gel in the midst of an industry that famously takes itself too seriously; he became my partner in crime as I stole a few extra cookies off chairs at Band of Outsiders or snuck into the Alexander Wang show (he even didn’t mind when I rapped along a little too loudly to Gin and Juice on the soundtrack). He’s become a man that I’m proud to call my friend, and I look up to him immensely for his insane talents as an illustrator, his jaw-dropping prowess as a story-teller, and his endless positivity (but always with that cynical New York edge). The guy slays me.

Now, much the same way as people peacock for Tommy Ton and Scott Schuman, I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that I’ve been hoping for eight months that Richard would one day draw me. I always make sure I’m wearing my Sunday best whenever I go to meet him, and he’s often complimented me on different garments or an overall outfit, but it’s never gotten to the point where he’s whipped out his iPhone to snap a shot (which is what he does with most of his subjects).

But on Sunday I was walking down 14th Street towards 8th Ave, when I saw Richard standing outside Pinkberry. I ran up, gave him a hug and he immediately expressed interest in this secondhand butcher-stripe denim sailor shirt that I was wearing. He asked if he could take a photo, fireworks erupted in my brain, and I attempted to pose casually without too much show of the celebration that was occurring within.

And here’s the result. He was particularly kind in his rendition – both stretching my body vertically and filling in the patches in my beard, but that’s why we love him. I can now tick ‘Get illustrated by Richard Haines’ off my bucket list.